


Choosing The Path

by EllaStorm



Category: Labyrinth (1986)
Genre: Decisions, Dreams, F/M, Magic
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-10-05
Updated: 2017-09-19
Packaged: 2018-08-19 18:42:20
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 9,220
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8221013
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EllaStorm/pseuds/EllaStorm
Summary: Five years have passed since the Labyrinth, and Sarah, now a college student and creative writer in her free time, has stopped looking back, and started looking forward. Until, on a particularly magnificent late summer afternoon in the park,  time stops, the King of Goblins makes a dramatic re-entrance, and Sarah isn't sure about anything anymore...





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> The idea for this fanfic was conceived in an impromptu writing-session with the wonderful SandraMorningstar, under the premise of "Write a coherent oneshot in two hours. Go.". But since I was having an absolute blast with this story, I'm definitely intending for it to go on in the future - without time limitations, then.
> 
> Enjoy!  
> 

The brown and green of the trees in the glow of the late afternoon drew shadows all over the grassy hills and granite stones of Dartmouth College Park. Sarah felt like the light was painting a picture just for her as she scribbled down words upon words on her notepad. On days like this, in the fading brilliance of a perfect New Hampshire summer, on a sitting stone in the park, nobody else in sight, it seemed as though her writing was developing a life of its own. The words were pouring out of her ballpoint pen, the plastic of it bitten by her teeth, a reminder of days and nights when inspiration hadn’t flown quite so freely and her mind had been completely devoid of ideas. But today… Today she was flying, riding a high of enthusiastic creativity she hadn’t experienced for a long while, and she wanted to go on, and on, and on, and never stop.

 

But stop she’d have to, eventually, she figured, with a considerable amount of disappointment, when she noticed the light of the setting sun slowly growing weaker around her. Upon raising her head for a moment, a brush of cool air touched her skin, and she shivered. It was getting cold, too. _Whatever. Ten minutes, then I’ll go._ She looked back down at her pad – and stopped short in her tracks. A fine, brownish-white feather was resting on the paper. It hadn’t been there just seconds before, she was absolutely sure of it. Taking it up she turned it around in her hand, surveying it closer in the fading light. It was thin, curved in an elegant line, its smooth patterned hairs moving softly in the breeze. “Beautiful,” she muttered under her breath; and suddenly there was another cool burst of air, this time strong enough to blow her hair out of her face, and the feather from her fingers. She clasped her notepad with both hands, her heart in her throat. _It’s just the wind. Stop acting like a little girl._ a voice in her head admonished her for her irrational anxiety. Then she noticed the scent. Warm cedar and spices and the distinct notion of green leaves underneath, harmonic and tangy in her nose. Her head started swimming, as she remembered, distinctly, the last time she had smelled this strange combination of fragrances.

 

“That’s impossible!” The voice of her teenage self broke out of her before she could hold it in, and then somebody said “Hello Sarah” to her left – and time stopped. Quite literally. The world stood perfectly still, the birds ceased singing, the insects ceased humming, and not a single blade of grass was moving in the departed wind. Sarah stood, unthinking, her pen and pad dropping down into the grass, and turned around.

 

It was impossible, yes, and maybe she had a psychological affliction, maybe she was dying right now, hallucinating, something, anything… But there he was, leaning up against a tree, a well-known smirk on his shiny lips, clad in black leather, boots and tight pants, his hair a mane of feather-light hair, his eyes two dissimilar pools of black and blue; and her pulse skyrocketed. _Jareth._ She didn’t say it, but looking at him, she had the feeling that he could hear it nonetheless.

 

“I was wondering when you’d finally find the courage to call on me again,” he said, his voice low and enticing. “Since you’ve had so many dreams in the last few weeks, I’d reckoned it to be a bit sooner. But, well, here we are…”

She flushed. He knew about the dreams. _What were you expecting? Maybe he put them there himself._

“Oh no, dearest Sarah. Those were all you.” His smirk deepened, and her mouth went dry.

“I didn’t call you,” she managed. “I wasn’t even thinking of you. And stop reading my thoughts.”

He pushed himself off the tree, and slowly stalked towards her, an unreadable expression on his face superseding the smug smile.

“I’m sorry. But it’s hard not to when they’re coming my way so clearly and precisely.”

“I didn’t call you,” she said, again, more firmly.

Jareth was right in front of her now, coming to a halt just a tad inside her personal space. His scent was surrounding her, and thinking straight felt like a challenge.

“But you did, my love. With every word you were writing.”

All at once he was holding her notepad in his leather gloved hands, stroking over the page and reading the last few sentences she’d written out loud:  
“ _In the pale glow of the evening sun his figure emerged from the line of trees, slender and tall, the scent of other worlds in his wake. Time stood still, an endless circle of memories and hopeful silence.”_

“I didn’t…” Her voice gave up on her as she glanced up in his face. One of his eyebrows was pulled up, nearly touching his hairline, and she knew, in that moment, that he was right. That flow of creative energy earlier had given rise to her subconscious, and with it, him, who had been invading her dreams and her mind again, still, after five years.

_I’ll never be free of you._

A hand touched her face, very softly, skin on skin. Somehow his gloves had disappeared, and he was looking at her with an unfamiliar gentleness in his gaze: “Do you wish to be?”

Once again he had answered her thoughts, not her words, and she wanted to be angry about it. She found that she didn’t have it in her. “I don’t know.”

“It’s all up to you, my Sarah. You said it yourself. If you don’t let me, I have no power over you. And if you really want it, you can cast me away again, in the blink of an eye.”

“It’s not that easy. You of all should know that.”

“I never said it was easy.”

The hand was still on her face, long, warm fingers stroking her cheek. She noticed, strangely, that she had yearned for this touch for quite some time. Ever since the dreams started, actually.

“Why exactly are you here? You never go anywhere just because some puny human calls upon you. Not if there isn’t something in there for you.”

He smiled. “Who said there isn’t something in here for me?”

Her mind was racing, tumbling over its feet. “You still want me to be…”

“My queen. Dearest Sarah.”

She shuddered, involuntarily. The fingers stopped their stroking and slowly touched her lower lip. “Come with me. Please.”

“I…I can’t…I have to… I need…”

“Time?”

She remained silent.

He sighed in resignation. “Well, then. Meet me here. Midnight of the next full moon. Don’t” His index finger gave a soft tap on her lip. “make me wait.”

She shook her head that was still reigned by a bundle of emotions and confusion; and Jareth nodded, seemingly pleased enough with her not-answer. Before she could say anything else, or take a few steps back from him, he had pulled her in and kissed her on the lips, sure but soft, a promise mixed with restrained longing. Her knees went weak, her heart stuttered and her mind collapsed completely, as she returned the kiss, heat in her stomach _._ She wouldn’t have stopped any time soon, hadn’t he let go of her then, a smile playing on his lips.

“See you, Sarah,” he said. Then, he was gone.

 

The wind started whispering through the grass again, and she noticed the noise of leaves and insects in the distance. Time was moving, undisturbed, unchanged.

 

Sarah stood, and didn’t move at all.


	2. Chapter 2

The world was spinning around her, filled with ethereal laughter, flowing garments and warm white light. Shadowed eyes framed by odd masks were watching her every move, and she felt a little uncomfortable at the unusual attention. Looking down at herself, she discovered a white fairytale dream of a dress she really couldn't remember having in her wardrobe. Also, her hair felt weirdly stiff. When she reached to touch it, she found it backcombed into a big voluminous do, satiny ribbons braided into it. With furrowed brows she glanced back up, and promptly spotted something in her peripheral vision that caught her attention. She turned to look; only to find a pair of otherworldly, mismatched eyes staring back at her from across the room.

Their owner was, unlike everyone else, not wearing a mask, and his sharp features seemed uncharacteristically soft in the light, his curved eyebrows delicate, his slightly parted lips inviting. Her breathing sped up as he moved closer, his gaze never leaving hers, the glimmering jewels on his collar catching and releasing the light with each step. He didn't speak when he reached her, didn’t ask before whisking her into his arms, his smell of spice and summer air mixed with something a lot deeper and colder as he started whirling them around to the music. The situation felt strangely familiar, and she thought about asking him why that was, but he pre-empted her question.

"This is not our first dance, Sarah. And, hopefully, it won’t be our last.”

"Is this place real?"

"Why are you asking _me_?" he retorted, a smile tugging at his lips.

"Well, you-"

His index finger laid itself over her mouth, shushing her. "Does the answer really matter?" They stopped dancing, came to a halt in the middle of the floor, while the ballroom kept spinning around them.

She bit her lip and looked down to evade his gaze, but he didn't allow it, turning her chin up with a gentle touch of his thumb just a second later. The look in his eyes was dark and shrewd, and its intensity stirred something inside her she wasn't quite certain whether to be frightened of.

"It matters to me", she gave back, quietly but confidently.

 

His smile became crooked around the edges. " _Real_ is such a stretchable term, my love."

"No, it isn't."

He sighed. "Oh, Sarah. I thought you'd learned your lesson by now." Suddenly, his mouth was very close to hers, and the tingle in her stomach peaked up again, stronger this time. "Real is whatever you want it to be."

She blinked, trying to unscramble her brain and get her thoughts in order. He hadn’t really backed away, and his scent was flaring through her mind, rendering the thinking process rather difficult. "So I have to make a decision?" she wanted to know.

His smile deepened. "Eventually. Yes.”

"Well, how can I decide?!" It came out more upset than she'd planned on. "I don't even know the options! I don’t know any of the consequences! And you do nothing but confuse me every time you show up, instead of giving me answers!"

He frowned. "How am I confusing you?"

"By doing…. _this_ , for example," Sarah responded, making a vague, all-encompassing gesture. Slowly but surely she felt herself become very fed up with this whole situation.

 

"I told you once already. _This_ " He imitated her gesture. "is not me. It's you. And it would be terribly rude of me not to accept your invitation, dearest Sarah. Since I have to make a case for myself, why not do it this way, if you're giving me the opportunity so willingly?" The back of his hand started stroking along her cheek, barely touching it, back and forth, back and forth.

“This is another one of your diversion manoeuvres, isn’t it?” Sarah managed.

He laughed in amusement. “Why would I divert you from anything? You’ve solved my Labyrinth already. You’ve brought your brother back in time, five years ago. I have no need to keep you away. To the contrary: What I want to do, is make my offer a little more convincing. It’s only three days until full moon.”

“Your offer…” Sarah’s gut shrank in on itself.

His sharp gaze turned a little gentler. “There are so many things I can give you, Sarah. Immeasurable power. Kingdoms no earthling has ever laid eyes upon, knowledge the human race can never possess. Magic.” He let his hand drift all the way down her neck to her shoulder, deliberately, his fingers dancing over bare skin. “I can give you anything you desire. Anything. You merely need to ask for it.”

She gritted her teeth and willed another surge of that _thing_ in her stomach down that always coincided with his touches. “Well, I don’t want it. Any of it. I won’t fear you, I won’t love you, and I certainly won’t do your bidding. Nothing has changed.”

To her surprise he didn’t look angered. More so, amused. “Very well, my love. Have it your way.” He bowed forward, just slightly, his smile turning somewhat wolfish. “But if you’re so certain in your lack of desires, then why are you making the effort of bargaining with me?”

His hand had snuck over her shoulder and down her back, where it rested now, warm and steady through the fabric of her dress.

“You’ve granted me entrance into your dreams, Sarah. I know how very much you are _not_ lacking in desires.” He put his mouth to her ear, his hand moving back up to curl around the nape of her neck. “In that respect, we are quite the same,” he whispered, pressing a kiss right behind her ear shell that took the air from her lungs. 

 

 

And then, all of a sudden, she was sitting up in bed, in her darkened dorm room, her breathing uneven and beads of sweat on her brow. It took her a while to get her heart rate back to normal, to untangle reality and illusion in her head as best as she could. _Three days until full moon. I don’t even know the options. I don’t know any of the consequences. How can I decide?_

“It’s not fair.” The words slipped out of her mouth, fell into the dark silence of her room, and died away unheard. 

_It’s not fair. But that’s how it is._   



	3. Chapter 3

„Sarah? Are you all right?” The words took a few moments to get through to her like they'd come from a distant place, travelling deserts and mountains and lakes until they finally invaded her consciousness. “Hm?” Evie was waving her hand up and down in front of Sarah’s eyes, a frown on her pretty face. “Are you listening?”

Sarah bit her lip and gave her friend an apologetic look. “Sorry. My mind was wandering.”

Evie chuckled. “Typical Sarah. Distracted by the scenery. But to be fair, if _this_ doesn’t get your creative parts all hot and bothered, you’re either blind or a chemistry major.” She let her gaze drift through the autumnal park in the evening sun, pondering her words. “Well, even I, a chemistry major, have to admit that this is what you guys might call an idyll. Are you still writing here?”

“Sometimes.” Sarah shot the tree opposite from where they were sitting a surreptitious look, and regretted it instantly when her brain took her on a detour to the man that had been leaning against it just a week ago, his graceful movements, his obnoxiously knowing smirk...

“Is there ever anyone else?” she heard Evie say. “Whenever we meet here it’s completely deserted. A bit strange for such a nice place, shouldn’t it be buzzing with art students?”

Sarah shrugged. “I don’t know.”

“Hm. Maybe it’s the atmosphere.”

Sarah shot her friend an interested glance. “What do you mean?”

Evie laughed, her wavy blond hair dancing around her face. “I don’t know. It’s probably way superstitious. But, don’t you think there’s something, like, a little _off_ about this place? Said the scientist among the both of us…” She laughed again, awkwardly.

Sarah didn’t laugh. “You mean _off_ like…otherworldly off?”

“You’re the author, you find the words. But yeah, something like that. I just…I wouldn’t feel comfortable being here too long. Like – I could slip somehow and find myself in a parallel universe if I don’t pay attention? Okay, wow, that sounded SUPER weird, I’m gonna stop talking now.”

“No, it doesn’t.” Sarah felt a slightly cool shiver trickle down her spine. “Maybe that’s what attracted me here. A place made for time to be taken off its hinges, for pushing something thought-up into existence. For blending reality with everything that’s not real, or only halfway real.”

Evie looked at her with her head tilted to one side, her expression suddenly serious. “Would you do it?”

“Do what?”

“Just – let yourself slip into the unknown like that. If you could. Down the rabbit hole.”

Sarah smiled. “That’s what writing feels like, if it’s good.”

“How do you handle that? Never knowing where you end up? What you might find?”

It took Sarah a few moments to collect her thoughts.

“Well…it’s not like you’re completely lost and helpless in the universe you create, you know? More like you’re driving some place you’ve never been before. Of course it’s all sorts of dangerous and strange and you don’t quite know the roads you’re on, but in the end it’s still you who decides when to stop and get out of the car, or when to drive by. No one else does it for you. You make the rules. You choose the path.” _This is all you, Sarah. Real is whatever you want it to be._ She could nearly feel his breath on her ear as her memory spewed out the words, completely unasked for, but certainly straight to the point. “I think I’m starting to get it…”

Evie smiled at her. “You clearly are. Sometimes I’m a little jealous, I have to admit. That sort of creativity…it’s a gift.”

Sarah smiled back at her. “Thank you, Evie. Has anyone ever told you that you really have a knack for asking the right questions?”

“Oh, too little”, her friend replied with an exhausted sigh. “Way, way too little.”

“You do know I love you, right?” Sarah couldn’t stop the words from pouring out of her mouth. “Whatever happens?”

Evie’s face showed signs of worry, but she smiled nonetheless. “I love you, too, Sarah.” She paused. “You’re not planning on doing anything stupid, are you? Not without me?”

Sarah shook her head. “If I decide to go on an ill-advised road trip I will definitely inform you beforehand.”

The worry disappeared from her friend’s face, before reappearing with a vengeance when she took a look at her watch. “Jesus! It’s six o’clock! I need to be sitting in my tutorial in fifteen minutes!”

“Then go!”

“Alright.” Evie got up from the granite steps built into the slope of the hill they’d been sitting on, grabbed her bag and closely evaded ripping out half of her hair as she vigorously slung it over her shoulder. “See you around. Call me. And don’t forget about it again!” she admonished, briefly hugging Sarah and giving her a last smile, before hurrying off into the direction of the campus.

Sarah looked after her as her teetering blond hair disappeared behind the trees. “Thank you, Evie”, she breathed. “Just in time.”

 

Full moon was tonight.

Sarah had just made a decision.


	4. Chapter 4

Sarah finished the piece just after 10 pm. In the end it spanned merely one and a half pages, written in her own neat hand. Still, she’d spent the last two hours reading it again and again, making small corrections and re-evaluating ambiguous sentences. Jareth was very good at finding loopholes; and she’d hate to give him the chance to. As soon as she'd decided that the document was as safe and sound as it was going to get, Sarah’s nerves started acting up. _Barel_ _y two hours left_. She wandered her room for a while, half-heartedly cleaning up and aimlessly moving things from one shelf to the other, then back again, wondering what else she could pack, and whether she should take some sort of weapon with her, just in case. She decided against it in the end. Jareth wasn’t really her enemy any more – all he had been trying to do was seduce her, steadily, with impressive levels of patience. And, also, with at least some sort of success, since he did regularly find his way into Sarah’s thoughts, much to her regret. There wasn’t an awful lot she could defend herself with against her own libido, which he of course knew, and she really, _really_ didn’t like it. After about half an eternity of pacing up and down she couldn’t deal with the suspense-laden atmosphere of her small dorm room any longer, stuffed the two sheets of paper she’d written on into her bag, left the building and headed for the park.

 

It was foggy outside, but not as cold as was common for an average October night in New Hampshire, and she didn’t meet a single person on her way. A weird sense of isolation befell Sarah, when she stepped into the park. She felt very lost all of a sudden, like she was entering some sort of no-man’s-land, cut off from the rest of the world, way too close to the other side. The full moon was invisible behind thick black clouds, only its halo indicated where it might be hidden; and when she sat down on the granite steps, in the exact same spot she had been only hours ago, it felt like a completely different place. The sense of other-ness Evie had observed earlier in the day was very strong now, even stronger than a week ago, when Jareth had found her here; the whole place seemed to be brimming with the same kind of energy she had last sensed inside the Labyrinth and she understood why the Goblin King had chosen this exact place for their meeting. It was just as close to his world as to Sarah’s.

Maybe even a little closer.

 

“You’re early, my love.” The voice startled her, prompted her to get up in the blink of an eye, frantically searching for its source. She didn’t need to look around for too long, though: Jareth’s form was emerging from the shadows of the trees directly in front of her, and the sight of him weakened her knees and sent her pulse into a frenzy. The moon had decided to finally make an appearance, bathing the Goblin King in pale silver light that made him look even less human, even more sublime, and distilled a stronger, stranger combination of fear and want into Sarah’s bloodstream than the one she was already used to. The long dark-blue cape he was wearing wafted along with his quiet, drawn-out steps over the grass, and Sarah did her best not to look too awe-struck. Judging by his amused smile she got the feeling that she wasn’t succeeding.

“You told me not to make you wait,” Sarah replied – and she could have hit herself for saying it, just a second later. _What happened to “I certainly won’t do your bidding”? Get yourself under control. God._

Jareth smiled, smugly. “Indeed. Have you made up your mind, dearest Sarah?”

He had come close enough for his scent to invade Sarah’s consciousness and throw her thoughts into chaos. Wood, green leaves, spices, and something cool, opaque beneath it that she hadn’t really made out the first time around– but now it was clearly there, obscure and tempting.

“As a matter of fact, I have.” She forced the words out and found it easier to focus after that, like she had broken a spell. She was on a mission here. She had a plan. And she wouldn’t let Jareth and his dramatic entrance put a spoke in her wheel. Sarah pulled the paper with the writing out of her bag and held it up, so Jareth could see it in the dim, cool light of the moon. “This is the deal. You’ll sign it with your name, just like me. And we’ll both abide by it.”

Jareth looked at her incredulously. “A deal?”

“Yes,” Sarah replied, firmly. “You told me it’s my decision what’s real. That was not true, not entirely. Like every person on this planet I can’t control what my subconscious does, however hard I try. Just like I can’t keep myself from eating and sleeping for too long, I can’t keep myself from calling on you in my dreams and in my writing. Therefore, I’ll have to arrange myself. But that arrangement will happen on my terms.”

Jareth blinked at her. The surprise on his face had shifted into something deeply intrigued. “You want to make a contract with me?”

“Exactly.”

“Does it involve you becoming my queen?”

Sarah huffed. “It’s hard to ignore that _something_ is pulling me towards you. But I like being here. I like going to college. I like my friends. I don’t want to spend my entire _life_ in the Underground and never see the sun again.”

She wasn’t quite sure about it, but there seemed to be a flicker of hurt in Jareth’s eyes at her words. “You’re not part of this world, Sarah. Don’t you recognise that? You’re made from magic, your mind, your soul, they belong somewhere else.”

Sarah took a deep breath. “But I’m not part of _your_ world either, Jareth. I’m human, still. Whatever part of me might _not_ be.”

“So, what is your deal, then?” he asked, a kind of softness in his voice Sarah hadn’t really expected to find there.

“It’s all here. I want to visit the Underground. I want to see the Labyrinth again. I want to see you. But it will be temporary. And you will keep _out_ of my dreams. Even if I seem to be inviting you there, you’ll stay away.”

“So – you’ll be coming with me then?”, Jareth asked, pleased.

“For a while,” Sarah added. “A short while. Then I’ll go back to my normal life. And then I might, _might_ consider visiting again. You won’t keep me there against my will. And you won’t set foot into my world as long as our deal lasts. If you try anything, _anything_ that offends our contract, it is off, and I’ll do my damnedest to kick you out of my head every chance I get.”

 

Jareth looked at her, silently, for a long time. She stared straight back at him, putting all the stubbornness she could muster up into her gaze. Finally he took the paper from her hand and studied it with keen eyes. When he glanced up at her again, the expression on his face was unreadable. Then, suddenly, a feather appeared in his gloved hand out of thin air, dipped in black ink at the quill. In one sharp, decisive gesture he put his name under the contract and Sarah sighed with relief. He handed it back. The feather disappeared.

“Would you like a copy?”, Sarah asked, gingerly, and Jareth laughed.

“Thank you, but that won't be necessary. I’ve memorised it. I won’t forget it for the next one thousand years. But there’s something we need to do. Fae seal contracts with a kiss, in order to render them binding for both parties.”

“Oh, I should have known,” Sarah grumbled.

The Goblin King tilted his head to the side. “Last time you didn’t object as much.”

“Last time you didn’t give me a chance to do so.”

Jareth chuckled. “Well, if it’s only that…”

With that, he kissed her, steadily, deeply, not quite as carefully as the first time one week ago. Even though she enjoyed it more than she would ever let herself acknowledge, it did feel strangely important, too, weighty, like a verdict being spoken over their heads; and Sarah shivered a little, when the gravity of the whole situation started to kick in. She had just struck a deal with a king. A _king_.

 

Jareth let go of her and smiled his unearthly smile, his fingers gently tangling with a strand of her hair. “Well then, Sarah Williams. Would you be so kind to accompany me to my world? After all, we have an arrangement.”


	5. Chapter 5

She had barely followed the Goblin King twenty steps into the darkened forest when the familiar, otherworldly scent of the Labyrinth grew exceedingly strong around her. In wonder she gazed at the shadows of the trees to her left and right that seemed to be forming a row of some kind, their branches weaving together until she couldn’t tell one from the other. The next step she took on the grass sounded somewhat hollow, and when she looked down in surprise she noticed that she wasn’t walking on the soft ground of the forest any longer, but on a grey-ish stone floor. Utterly startled Sarah lifted her head. Somehow, during the last three seconds, the trees around her had vanished and made way for a wide corridor full of lit torches and painted glass windows that revealed the silhouette of a nightly landscape. Masterful stone cuttings of leaves and flowers adorned the pillars along the walls that stretched upwards to form arches high above her head, much like the treetops in Dartmouth Park. Only this was very obviously not Dartmouth any more. This was the centre of the Labyrinth. This was Jareth’s castle.

 

The Goblin King walked a little ahead of her and she hurried to reach him.

“How did we get here?” she demanded. “One minute ago we were…”

“Since when do you ask such dispensable questions?” Jareth interrupted her, frowning.

“Since I have learned that stepping through an open balcony window into a different world is not compatible with the laws of nature.”

“And yet here you are.” The hint of a smile was playing around his small, shiny lips. Before she could give him the flippant answer he deserved, Jareth sharply clapped his gloved hands, and the scurrying of small feet started echoing through the corridor.

“I suppose you would like to have your night’s rest, Sarah. It is very late, after all. Someone will show you to your room.”

“Why don’t _you_ do that?” The words escaped her before her mind followed, and even though they _did_ sound sort of snippy she couldn’t help but notice their second meaning just about a second later, an ambiguity she really hadn’t intended. Or had she? This whole situation was Gordian-knotting her nervous system in the most despicable way.

 

The Goblin King looked rather pleased, and Sarah couldn’t exactly blame him. After all she had furnished him a very fit occasion for smugness.

“I have to tend to some of my own affairs, my love. Should you wish it, though, I could visit you later.” His hand was making soft contact with her shoulder and Sarah’s stomach tried for quite a virtuosic flip at the touch, but she really wasn’t going to grant him that sort of satisfaction, so she removed herself from his caress and took a step back.

“I think I did make my stance on invasion of privacy very clear in our contract.”

"You did," Jareth sighed. "Oh, there you are,” he added, louder. “What took you so long?”

Sarah spotted the creature rounding the corner of the corridor just a second after the Goblin King. It was about a foot shorter than her, human-looking, but very thin, with extensively gangly limbs, delicate features and pointy ears, its brown hair flowing behind it; clothed in a dark-blue tunic with silver stitching around the collar and sleeves. Sarah had never seen its like before.

 

“What is that?” she asked as the creature came closer, bare feet flitting across the floor.

“A goblin,” Jareth retorted, amusement in his voice. “You’ve seen them before, remember?”

“No. No, but they are tiny. Broad, ugly faces and yellow eyes. Noisy. Insufferable. This one is completely different, like, elegant and taller and…”

The Goblin King smiled. “The only thing that’s different around here, dear Sarah, is you.”

 

She blinked, unable to compute for a second; and then the creature stood before them, sank down into a curtsy and spoke with a whispery, female voice. “Your Majesty.”

“Lead the Lady to her chambers,” Jareth commanded.

“Your Majesty.” The creature repeated, curtsied, looked at Sarah and curtsied again. “Herdis to your service, Milady.”

The Goblin chambermaid (or whatever her function was around here) got up on her feet again, turned wordlessly and started walking, which prompted Sarah to shoot Jareth a questioning glance. He only gave her another slightly wolfish smile. “Good night, Sarah. Sleep well. And dream of… well, whatever you care to dream about. As per contract.”

 

Sarah huffed, pulled the strap of her bag into a straight position over her chest and left without another word. She had to fall into a short jog since the Goblin Maid had nearly made it back around the corner, and she wasn’t exactly planning on wandering the castle alone. Jareth was very obviously afloat again, completely in his element; and she couldn’t quite decide whether to hate it or be turned on by it. Probably both. As always. Sarah had been convinced her problems were the most enormous they would ever be when she had been 16 and slashing her way through the Labyrinth in search for her brother – but in fact, things had been so much _easier_ then, when she hadn’t had to carry out fights with her sex drive every time she as much as looked at the King of Goblins. It was ridiculous. Absolutely, completely ridiculous.

 

“Your rooms, Milady.” The Goblin Maid had come to a halt right in front of a high, wooden door, decorated with fine, dark inlays of birds and roses. Only at the sight of their destination did Sarah realise she had been so lost in her thoughts that she hadn’t paid attention to the route they had taken at all. _Great. Absolutely fantastic._

“Ummm – thank you, ah, Her-dis.” She wasn’t sure about the pronunciation. Apparently she’d gotten it wrong, because the maid didn’t move.

“You can go? I suppose?” Sarah added.

“I’m here to help with your bath. And your wardrobe,” Herdis breathed.

“No. No way. Uh, sorry if this is rude. But – I’d like to do that myself, thank you. Good night.”

 

With that, Sarah walked past her, pushed the door to her rooms open with determination and entered.

 

 


	6. Chapter 6

_Chambers_ , as Jareth had put it, wasn’t quite the right word, Sarah found. _Terrifyingly enormous palace halls with en-suite accommodations,_ that was more like it. She felt outright lost in her rooms, forlorn and small in a far too big castle in a strange place. Her hands trembled a little as she took her bag from her shoulder and let it slide down onto the monstrosity of a dark-velvety-blue four-poster in the middle of her new bedroom, right across from the cozy, cheerfully flickering fireside.

“This is crazy. So, so crazy,” she murmured. Something inside her clenched at the thought of having to spend the rest of her life here, but she shook it off immediately. _Three days. That’s it. Then you’re out of here. Three days._ Why, again, exactly, had she agreed to this?

 _There are so many things I can give you, Sarah,_ the voice of the Goblin King rang in her ears, his breath floating over her skin, his slender hand down her back. Yeah. That pretty much summed up her reasoning. Damn him to hell and back. And damn herself just the same for being so stupidly weak.

With a disgruntled sound Sarah opened her bag and pulled out everything she had packed. It wasn’t much – three days worth of shirts and underwear, a small toiletry bag and the contract paper, a little rumpled after having been carelessly stuffed into her bag one too many times. She smoothed it down a little and put it into the drawer of her dark wooden nightstand. Not exactly a safe place – but then: If Jareth hadn’t outright lied to her he was bound by it anyway. None of them could just make it disappear and act like it had never existed in the first place. Not after having signed it and sealed it… _that_ way.

Sarah tried to force her thoughts away from the memory of Jareth’s cool, soft mouth on hers, but she didn’t quite succeed this time. The Goblin King had only kissed her twice in the real world and each time she had wanted more of – whatever it was that _he_ was. She had never been able to put her finger on when or why exactly she had started wanting him, but she had developed the theory that it must have been long before the dreams happened. Possibly when she had been only a naïve 16-year-old on a hopeless mission. She’d felt something when she had eaten that peach back then, when she had danced with Jareth for the first time in her fever dream, and only a year or so later had she been able to tell that it had been desire.

As for the why: It wasn’t – and she was fairly sure of that – because he was king, because he was powerful or rich. His presence alone, his _aura_ seemed to render these details redundant at best. Despite his cynicism, his disregard for her humanity (or her brother’s, for that matter) and his unrelenting ability of driving her up the wall with just a few words he was unavoidably enticing, pulling her in like no other before or after him, no _human_ before or after him. And now she was here, in his realm, his _home,_ trying to figure out what the hell to make of this mess she had gotten herself into. Because a mess it was, no matter her juridical insurance.

 

She wondered what things would be looking like had she _not_ rejected Jareth’s offer of visiting her later. Her heart rate sped up when she thought of his form in the doorway, strolling towards her like some sort of feline predator, pressing her down on the bed and _taking_ her, for real this time, not just in a dream, his mouth eating the noises of pleasure from her lips and making them his own, his long fingers sweeping and strong, everywhere she needed them to be, and his eyes... Some part of her was very much on board with this scenario. _Maybe he will come see me anyway, despite what I-_ _Forget it._ _Invasion of privacy. Contract. You told him yourself._

Sarah sighed very, very deeply. If just for once she’d be able to decide for or against something completely, she was sure someone would present her with a prize. Hot or cold. Aggravated or awestruck. Privacy or no privacy. Sex with the Goblin King or no sex with the Goblin King. It couldn’t be _that_ difficult. Other people did it all the time. But then, on the other hand: Other people didn’t normally travel in between dimensions and hook up with beautiful, powerful, somewhat wicked non-humans who wanted them to become their queen…

A knock sounded on the door and Sarah jumped up from her bed like a scalded cat. It couldn’t be… Could it? Was it maybe…?

 

“Milady’s night gown, Milady,” Herdis’ breathy voice came muffled through the wood, and Sarah sighed once more, only a little disappointed.

“I don’t need it. I’ve got my own!” That was a lie. But her underwear would have to suffice.

“His Majesty insists.” The voice sounded a little shaky, and Sarah bit her lip. She wasn’t going to get Herdis in trouble with Jareth just because of some misplaced defiance. And, also, she felt modest curiosity peek up inside her. Slowly she stepped up to the door and opened it. The Goblin Chambermaid stood before it, holding out a long, white, flowing garment with a deep bow of her head.

“Thank you, Herdis. That’s lovely.” Sarah took the nightgown. It was soft, silky, light. And it smelled like summer leaves, wood and something deeper, colder beneath it… _Jareth._

Herdis stepped back, and Sarah closed the door, drawing in a deep breath before examining the gown more closely. Upon the second glance she spotted a small, brown paper roll bound to one of the sleeves. Of course. This was not just a nightgown.

With hammering heart and flying fingers she threw it on her bed next to her bag and opened the ribbon holding the paper together. She recognised Jareth’s writing immediately from the signature he had put under their contract about an hour ago, black ink on ochre background:

 

_Sarah._

_I have evaluated our contract and come to the conclusion that this little gift does not count as an invasion of your privacy._

_Should you change your mind you may find me one floor upstairs from your room._

_Devotedly yours._

She flicked the note to the floor, sudden anger boiling in her gut. Jareth hadn’t signed it. Not that he’d have needed to. This had his name written all over it. Throwing her a crumb and making her play according to his rules, just because...

_He doesn’t have much choice in the matter of communication. He signed the contract. HE signed YOUR contract._

Her anger subsided when she considered the possibility that this might not be just another power-play, like the one they had been playing five years ago, or ever since. After months and months of only seeing her in dreams, after all the waiting he had been doing, maybe he _did_ mean it. Maybe this was Jareth genuinely, truly longing for her to show up at his door. The letter was neither a command, nor a threat, nor a ransom note. Just – a request. Not a very well phrased one. But still.

Sarah picked the paper back up and read it again. It was obvious. He was giving her a choice, again.

Always her.

Never himself.

 

 _Just let me rule you, love me, do as I say…_ It came back to her all of a sudden, with a surprisingly radical thought in tow: What had sounded like the absolute nightmare to every fibre of her, what had ultimately stuck with her as the essence of Jareth, King of Goblins for the last five years might just have been another very, very poorly phrased request.

Very. Poorly. Phrased.

But honest? Not necessarily a last grasp for power over her? Just – desperate? Maybe. People did crazy things out of desperation.

_People. Yes. PEOPLE. Not Goblin Kings. You could be so wrong about this. Most likely he really IS that sort of power hungry, addicted to dominance, narcissistic and everything else you were sure of a minute ago and you’re playing straight into his hands._

“Only one way to find out,” Sarah said to nobody in particular. “Only one.”


	7. Chapter 7

The nightgown felt surprisingly comfortable, despite its long train sliding across the floor behind her with every step she took. It fit her like a second skin, clinging to her curves and giving off that subtle smell of otherworldliness she hated to relish as much as she did. When Sarah stepped out into the corridor she found, to her personal disappointment, that the only thing the gown _didn’t_ do was protect her from the cool draughts of air sweeping through the castle halls, and even less so from the iciness diffusing through the bare skin of her feet from the stone floor beneath her. She quickened her steps, not quite sure where exactly she had to go, since the only direction Jareth had given her was _one floor upstairs_. Walking straight ahead seemed like a good option for the moment, though.

The otherwise dark hallway around her was only illuminated by some sparingly placed torches on the walls – and for a few seconds she thought about turning around again and leaving well enough alone instead of wandering this ridiculously big, strange castle in the middle of the night in a flimsy night gown without a flashlight or a map; when the wall to her left receded and revealed a wide, winding flight of stairs, leading upwards, and upwards only.

“There we go,” she mumbled to herself and started climbing.

Upstairs she realised that the corridor here mimicked the one on her floor in structure and width; the only difference she could make out was the design of the pillars – where there had been stone-cut flowers and leaves downstairs she spotted mostly geometric and abstract patterns here. Sarah turned right, in the direction she would have taken to her own room one floor below and felt her heart set up a faster rhythm in her chest. She wasn’t sure what to expect from this late-night detour, wasn’t sure about anything, really, but turning around was simply not an option, that much she was clear on. There were things to find out for her here, important things, about Jareth, about herself, about everything in between, and if this was the only way to go about it…well. She certainly had the guts for it. That’s what she kept telling herself, anyway.

Before she knew she was standing in front of a high, wooden door, just like hers downstairs, but without the inlays of birds and roses; instead it was decorated with sharp, meandering lines of wood, and white, star-shaped crystals between them, sparkling in the low light. Sarah gritted her teeth. She felt very unprotected all of a sudden, too conscious of the fact that she was more or less naked under the thin gown. _Maybe I shouldn’t…_

With a huff she squared her shoulders, lifted her hand and- didn’t get a chance to knock. A particularly strong blow of air hit the door before her knuckles could and pushed it slightly ajar. Sarah doubtfully lowered her hand and glanced inside. As far as she could tell the rooms here didn’t look too different from her premises downstairs. Of course there was no sign of Jareth; but since the rooms were still lit with torches and candles she assumed that he hadn’t gone to sleep yet.

 _Do fae even sleep?_ Sarah shook her head. No time for intrusive thoughts like that. No time for any more thoughts at all. _Just do it. Now_. Without bothering to try knocking again she pushed the door open completely and stepped inside.

“I wasn’t sure you’d come.”

The disembodied voice of the Goblin King cut through the silence as soon as her foot hit the floor and Sarah flinched violently. “I’m very glad you did, though,” he continued, quietly but crystal clear, his words emphasised by the soft splashing sound of moving water. _He’s in the bathroom._

Sarah couldn’t stop a decidedly unhelpful rush of pictures associated with the two words “Jareth” and “bathroom” from flooding her head right then and her mouth went dry. _That’s not very fair. But what is, these days?_

“Should I…wait outside?” she asked, warily, and received a soft chuckle in return.

“I wouldn’t dream of it, my love.”

That was a…vague statement. Sarah gulped. It was most likely an incredibly bad idea to keep going – but then, one more of those wouldn’t make all the difference, would it?

Hesitantly she closed the door behind her and started walking towards the bathroom. As suspected, Jareth’s parlour and bedroom had basically the same structure and interior design as hers; even his bedspread was held in the same blue, but had been embroidered with small silver stars, reminiscent of the crystal inlays in his door. The bathroom to her right was curtained off with velvet drapes, and Sarah moved over, stretched out her arm and took a deep breath. Something told her that whatever she was to find behind this curtain, there would be no going back from it. _Screw it_ , she told herself, firmly, grabbed the heavy fabric and pulled it aside with one swift motion.

The first thing she noticed was the warm humidity of the air inside the room. The second one was the Goblin King lounging in a giant, steaming, water-filled stone basin embedded in the floor at its centre, head tilted back ever so slightly. His eyes were open, intent, focused on her. And as far as she could tell he was completely naked. Which – oh, she’d though she’d be prepared for. As it turned out that wasn’t the case. At all.

Jareth smiled at her. “I knew that gown was going to suit you. But still – imagination always pales in comparison to reality when it comes to you, my love,” he greeted her.

Sarah simply stared at him and tried to get her thoughts in order. His long, feathery hair didn’t look wet, despite the steam surrounding him, and her gaze slipped lower for just a second, to the blurry line right below his narrow chest where his body disappeared into the water. She looked back up immediately, but he had obviously taken note of her interest, since his smile had broadened considerably. It dawned on Sarah that she hadn’t thought this through. But it was impossible to cop out now. Of all the things one might call her “coward” wasn’t one.

Without hesitating any longer she stepped into the room and stripped off her nightgown. She’d wisely left her underwear on, so there was at least a modicum of fabric between her and Jareth’s eyes – eyes she deliberately didn’t meet when she walked over and climbed in on the opposite end of the basin. The water was warm, surrounding her in a comforting, protective cloak, and she felt a lot safer all of a sudden, even though she knew in her mind that she really _wasn’t._ There was no ledge in the basin to sit on, so she stood and leaned back against the rough stones.

“Well, that’s new,” Jareth said and he sounded almost surprised.

Sarah finally worked up the courage to look at him again. His eyes were still fixed on her and the want inside them radiated towards her over the water like waves, resonating with an answering emotion inside her, but she managed to push it away for the moment.

“What’s new?” she asked.

“You.”

“I’ve grown up.”

“I know.”

Sarah sighed. “Can we stop that?”

“What?”

“Communicating through cryptic phrasing and contracts and letters and dreams… and just – talk honestly? For once?” She paused and drew a deep breath. “I have no idea what I’m doing. Not the faintest. Everything about this situation confuses me… _you_ confuse me most of all and it’s exhausting to keep playing a game that I don’t understand.”

Jareth looked at her and she was fairly sure that, for once, he was actually lost for words.

Sarah on the other hand felt the sudden need to carry on talking – it seemed to free something inside her, seemed to make her stronger and more confident, clearing her mind for the first time since Jareth had entered her life again.

“You wanted to own me, to _rule_ me, right from the beginning, and I hated it. Then and now even more. I’d rather die than surrender to your demands or be tricked into captivity. But I can’t keep myself away, I don’t _want_ to keep myself away from you; and I hoped that this contract we both signed tonight would solve more than just formalities… Of course, _of course,_ I was wrong. Because now we’re still here, doing the same thing we’ve always done, limbo-ing around each other, neither getting what they want, and I’m so _sick_ of it. I just..” She trailed off.

The seconds ticked by in silence, and Jareth’s expression didn’t give anything away. Sarah was close to turning her back, getting out of the basin and leaving the way she came without another word when he finally opened his mouth to speak.

“Is that all you see, Sarah? Greed? Trickery? Calculation?”

Sarah recalled the thought process that had led her to his rooms tonight. “I don’t think that’s all there is,” she answered, quietly. “But it’s all you ever show me.”

Jareth stretched out his long pale arm across the water.

“Then let me show you something else.” His voice was soft again, like it had been only a few times before; and Sarah took his hand and let herself be pulled towards him. When she stood right in front of him he pressed a fleeting kiss to her knuckles before looking her straight in the eye. His fingers touched the side of her face and the pull in her stomach grew stronger.

“May I?” he asked – _asked_ – and Sarah nodded. Jareth’s warm breath whispered over her lips for just a second, then he moulded his mouth to hers. She remembered having felt a sense of restrained longing in his first kiss, back then in Dartmouth Park on that afternoon half an eternity ago; but now it seemed as if the cool façade had slipped away, leaving no restraint and something way more intense than just longing burning itself from his lips right into her bloodstream. There was only so much greed, tricks or calculation could do…and this was neither. This was hot, irrational, all-consuming, aching confusion, a feeling she knew oh-so-well; and when she parted her lips and let him in, gave him a taste of her own panic, she finally got it, how very much they were alike in this. Jareth was just as puzzled, just as overwhelmed, just as obsessed as she was; and dear _God_ she had never wanted him more than now.

His arms were wrapping around her, pulling her in even closer, and Sarah let her own hands glide over his slim shoulders, down his back, pressing him up against her, sleek, delicate, hard lines that seemed to fit her body even better than the nightgown he had presented her with. She lifted her mouth away from his and kissed down his long neck, breathing in and savouring the taste of his skin with small licks and gentle bites.

“Sarah,” Jareth’s voice sounded strained. “I hate to interrupt you, but I do believe there is a better and more comfortable place for this. Namely, my bedroom.”

She softly bit down on his clavicle once more before letting go entirely. As soon as she did, she felt the floor disappear from under her feet, and before she could properly register what had happened, Jareth was already carrying her up the stairs, out of the water and into his bedroom. Sarah laughed, incredulously, and she could feel the vibration of a responding snicker against her side.

“I’ve always wanted to do that,” the Goblin King admitted.

“Glad I could help,” Sarah gave back; and then she was being laid down on starry blue, Jareth’s mouth upon hers, kissing her into oblivion.


	8. Abort Mission

Unfortunately, this story got stuck along the way, right at the point where the fun was supposed to start; and while I was taking to other projects and completing my latest 50k story (that I had, weirdly, no problems writing) I slowly came to realise that this piece will not get finished.

Therefore, "Choosing The Path" has now officially been put on ice. Probably forever. I'm really sorry for any of you who were invested/interested in this story. Should any of you want to take it and continue it, I would be happy to give it away. Feel free to contact me.

All the love <3


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